


Speech Must Be Kept Down to Words of One Sound

by AnythingButPink



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 10:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnythingButPink/pseuds/AnythingButPink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin wins a game. Douglas makes him pay for it...</p><p>(No angst, I promise.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speech Must Be Kept Down to Words of One Sound

It had been a long and exceedingly tiresome day on standby, in a seemingly never-ending fortnight of standby. Newspapers had been read cover to cover before being turned into paper aeroplanes. Martin's had been by far the best plane, but Lady Luck smiled on Douglas (as was her way) and a freak gust of wind carried his creation a good 50 metres further than Martin's.

Carolyn had let Arthur open the games cupboard, but neither Monopoly nor Cluedo had done more than inadequately pass the time.

They had been playing the 'only using words of one syllable' game for the past hour. Arthur had lasted a whole fifteen seconds longer than usual and Carolyn had refused to join in, leaving Martin and Douglas bemoaning their boredom in 'words of one sound' as the clock hands slowly swept round to 6pm.

"Right, drivers!" she declared as the long hand finally hit the 12 and freed them from their purgatory. "Mr Hewson is clearly not going to grace us with his presence today, so you may go and do whatever it is you do when you are not costing me money. I will see you both back here at 8am sharp." She gave Douglas a meaningful glare. "Capiche?"

"Cer..." Douglas tailed off hesitantly, and Martin's eyebrows raised in hope. Douglas cleared his throat and continued, "Sir's wish is heard, loud and clear."

"Damn," muttered Martin.

"Right, then off, off, off with you!"

Douglas hauled himself off one end of the battered leather sofa with a sigh, while Martin sprang up from the other.

"See you at eight," said Martin, plucking his coat off a hook and heading for the door.

Douglas watched him leave, collected his own jacket and followed him out into the chilly violet dusk.

"Martin?"

The captain spun triumphantly on his heel and grinned wickedly at his first officer. "I win!" he said unbelievingly. "I actually win. Ha!"

Douglas rolled his eyes. "Fine. I thought the game ended when Carolyn released us. My mistake." He leaned in towards Martin, narrowed his eyes and growled. "I won't make it again."

Martin was too elated to care. "I won! I won! Finally..."

"Don't you want to know why I was calling you?"

"Oh. Yes. What did you want, Douglas?"

"I wanted to know what you fancied for dinner tonight, love."

A faint pink flush spread along Martin's shapely cheekbones. Even in the rapidly failing light, Douglas could see it and smiled at the tightness it produced in his own chest.

"Well, whatever you want is fine with me, but I haven't been able to do any jobs, Icarus jobs, for a week because of this bloody standby so I'm a bit skint to be honest..."

Douglas stepped up close to him and laid a finger on his lips. "Shush now. We've been over this. It is absolutely my pleasure to buy you dinner. It's lovely when we can split the bill too, but I am not keeping score. How does Chinese takeaway sound?"

Martin pulled Douglas's hand away from his face and smiled. "It sounds delicious. Let's go home."

***

"What?"

When Martin walked back into the living room, having washed up, dried and put all the crockery and cutlery away, Douglas was stretched out on the sofa looking, well, particularly Douglassy. Mischief was clearly afoot and Martin wondered just how high a price he was going to have to pay for his earlier victory.

"Nothing," said Douglas innocently.

"Not even Arthur would fall for that. What are you up to?"

"Me?" said Douglas, one hand mock-dramatically clasped to his chest, faux indignation in his voice, "Up to something? I'm hurt. Deeply, deeply wounded."

Martin quirked an eyebrow at him. "Douglas..."

Douglas held out his hand to draw his lover to him. Martin crossed the floor and sat on the carpet where Douglas could run his hands through his hair.

"I was wondering if you fancy a rematch at the one-syllable word game."

"Now?" The bridge of Martin's nose folded into deep creases.

"Well, in a moment or two. I thought it might be interesting to change the parameters a little..."

"Change them how?" said Martin warily.

Douglas's baritone rumble dropped a notch lower and he moved to growl in Martin's ear, "I intend to take you to bed and reduce you to a boneless lump of pleasure. If you manage not to utter a word of more than one syllable between agreeing to the game and the moment you come, I will take you to Duxford Air Museum on our next day off."

"And if I lose?"

Douglas chuckled, "You have to do me a favour."

Martin narrowed his eyes, "What sort of favour?"

Douglas's dark eyes glittered in the low light of the living room. "I haven't quite decided yet."

He leaned over and kissed Martin on the edge of his mouth. Martin turned into the kiss and brushed his own lips against Douglas's before catching his lover's lower lip in his teeth and softly biting and pulling at it. Douglas groaned softly and pushed his tongue into Martin's mouth, eliciting a husky groan.

Douglas could feel the heat of desire pooling low in his groin and the twitch of his cock as it hardened. He broke free of the kiss and ran his hand around Martin's face to cup his chin. "Shall I take that as a yes then, Sir?"

Martin nodded. Douglas grinned, snapped himself upright and started leading Martin towards the bedroom. "Let the game begin," he murmured.

***

Douglas pulled Martin close and captured his mouth in a languorous kiss that sent even more blood rushing to his cock. Martin's hands were pulling Douglas's shirt out of his trousers so that he could lay his palms on the warm skin of his first officer's broad back.

They broke apart to pull off each other's clothes and Douglas led Martin to the bed. He pulled him down on to the covers and buried his face in Martin's neck, kissing, licking and nipping at the creamy skin and letting Martin's moans fuel his own desire.

He started to trace a line of kisses down Martin's chest before stopping, sitting up abruptly and smiling wickedly at his lover. "So, what would you like me to do to you next, Sir?"

Martin was looking more than a little dazed, dragged out of his moment of bliss. "W-well, what you ... did just now was nice," he offered.

" _Nice?_ " Douglas pretended to look offended, saw the worry on Martin's face, winked wickedly and kissed his lips to soothe him. "As I said, what would you like me to do next?"

"Um, you could kiss me here," said Martin pointing at his nipples.

"I would love to," rumbled Douglas and dipped his head to Martin's chest, licking, sucking and biting at the dark circles of flesh, feeling Martin shiver and hearing him sigh.

"What now, Sir?"

Martin had had time to think. He smiled. "I will shut my eyes and you will choose how you want to make me feel most most nice."

Douglas grinned. Martin could almost match him for ingenious sneakiness when he really wanted to. "Well then," he purred, "shut your eyes."

Martin closed his eyes and lay back, slightly tense, awaiting the feel of Douglas on his skin. He was surprised to feel a lurch in the mattress as Douglas got off the bed. He turned his head to follow the sound of Douglas across the room.

"Keep them shut," said Douglas, and walked out of the bedroom.

Martin found he was gripping the sheets in clenched fists, nervous now. He didn't think Douglas would just leave him here, but he didn't know how far his first officer would go to win the game either. There were sliding and scraping noises coming down the hallway. What was he doing?

Suddenly he felt the mattress dip again under Douglas's weight and could feel Douglas's head near his groin. His cock twitched, already oozing pre-cum and his hands fisted a little harder into the sheets. He wanted to ask Douglas what he was waiting for, but suspected that he couldn't do it in words of one syllable and that the waiting was part of Douglas's dastardly plan.

He had just started to relax when his cock was suddenly enveloped in a cold mouth. Douglas's tongue was cool against his hot skin, licking and pushing the flesh against the roof of Douglas's mouth, when he felt something hard and very, very cold catch at the edge of his cock. It was all he could do not to say his lover's name and he forced himself to breathe out "Oh. My. God," which he knew Douglas would interpret as an entirely appropriate substitution anyway.

Douglas licked and sucked the pre-cum away before releasing Martin from his mouth and licking a chilly stripe from the base of his cock to the head. He smiled to himself and took Martin back into his mouth, having moved the shrinking ice cube from his cheek to the middle of his tongue.

"Christ! Fuck! What?" squeaked Martin as the ice made contact with his cock.

"Hmmm?" hummed Douglas and looked up, eyes glittering, to see Martin propped up on his elbows half-wrecked with lust and shock.

He shifted the ice back into a cheek, slid his lips off Martin's cock and with that famous Richardson nonchalance enquired, "Was that not _nice_?"

Martin swallowed. "It was most, most nice, just a bit, um, cold and from a field on the left."

Douglas bit his lower lip and twinkled his eyes at Martin, who predictably got lost in a wash of lust and groaned in frustration.

"You think you can win twice in one day?"

Martin had pulled one of the pillows over his face and was moaning into it. Douglas grinned to himself and returned his attention to the blowjob. Martin gasped and hugged the pillow to his face as the rapidly melting ice was slid along the shaft of his cock by Douglas's tongue. Just as he had acclimatised to the cool temperature, the last sliver dissolved and Douglas's mouth quickly became warmer and more familiar.

Giving head was just another one of those things that didn't fall into the category of 'things that Douglas couldn't do' and Martin was lost in the glorious sensations as Douglas licked and sucked him towards orgasm. Martin could feel it coiled like a tight spring, just moments from release when Douglas stopped, and crawled back up the bed to talk to Martin's pillow.

"Was _that_ nice?"

It took every ounce of self-control Martin had not to call Douglas a bastard. Instead he lifted the pillow and narrowed his eyes at Douglas. "It was most, most nice. You could do that some more."

"Well, I could," conceded Douglas in that infuriating tone of voice Martin knew all too well, "but I want to win this game." He put on a fake look of concern. "You look a bit tense. Let me fix that."

He reached for a bottle of massage oil and glooped it into his hands before smoothing it onto Martin's shoulders and arms.

"Ohhhh," sighed Martin, as Douglas straddled him and started working down his chest and abdomen towards his groin. His cock was already slick with saliva and more pre-cum when Douglas grasped it with an oily hand and gave it a long, heavy pull. "Oh, Dou... dear god," stammered Martin, close to losing all control of his speech.

Douglas smirked, opened his hand and slid his own cock next to Martin's and gave them both a slow tug.

"Nnnggh," said Martin, his back arching off the bed and hands now gripping Douglas's hips. Douglas gazed at his captain, falling apart beneath his touch, head thrown back, long neck exposed, luscious mouth sinfully parted and felt another surge of lust driving into his cock.

He pulled again at the flesh and felt himself shudder in unison with Martin.

"Please. More. Fuuuck..." breathed Martin.

"Your wish..." replied Douglas, voice thick with desire now, and he quickened his pace, feeling himself rapidly reaching the brink and hearing his own incomprehensible shout just a moment before Martin's as they came in his hand, hot and sticky.

He rolled into the space beside Martin and lay on his back panting for a moment.

Martin rolled over to throw an arm over him and nuzzle into his neck. "Douglas," he murmured, "you were incredible."

Douglas chuckled, "My pleasure, love. Though clearly not quite incredible enough."

Martin looked worried. "Did I do something wrong?"

Douglas turned his head, pulled Martin's chin up and kissed him, long and hard. "Good god no. I was referring to the minor fact that I have just a lost a second word game to you today."

Martin laughed. "Really? I stopped paying attention to my language centres when you wrapped your hand around my cock to be honest. Must have been beginner's luck. I've no doubt you'll win when we play again later. The third time's bound to be a charm..."

Douglas growled with pleasure. "I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but I finally see what people mean about it's not the winning that matters but how you play the game..."


End file.
